New arrival

Oliver had many reasons to detest being a shadowhunter though currently at the top of his list of qualms against the Nephilim was the inability to get completely one hundred percent shit-faced drunk. It must have been something in their blood that seemed to lessen the effects of alcohol though didn’t make the task of total inebriation impossible, it just meant they had to work a little harder than your normal mundane. It had been early this morning when Oliver first set his eyes on the skyline of Manhattan and decided this would be a decent place to crash for a while. Since he left his home in Idris, the shadowhunter had gone somewhat rouge. He traveled from city to city, hunting demons by himself and crashing at the local Institutes for the desired amount of time though never staying long. When the last city had grown tiresome, he decided to go pay a visit to the famous Lightwoods. He had been told that they had been good friends to his family back in the days before the uprising.

The sun has just begun to rise over the tall buildings as Oliver hitched a ride into the heart of it all. He had already topped off his first bottle by the time his feet first touched to dirty streets and planned to spend the rest of his day getting completely pissed out of his mind before he had to make the journey to find the Lightwoods Institute. When the sun had begun to slowly sink back down out of the smoggy sky, Ollie had had quite enough of the chilly wind that was biting through his leather jacket and thin shirt. He had located the institute earlier that day so had no trouble finding it even in his now intoxicated state and upon asking entrance to the beautiful building, marched in like he owned the place. His head was swimming happily as the warm tendrils of the alcohol tingled through his body as he rode the elevator up to the top.“Hello, Hello?!” He announced loudly, his slightly slurred voice echoing through the hallowed halls.

“I know you feel like that. I see it in your eyes. You're more tired than you've ever been before, and all you want is for it to be over. But, it can't be, Bridget. You have to overcome this pain, before it takes you over. And I know you have the strength to do this."Taking her hand up again, Derek's eyes shown with the confidence and faith he felt in her. He'd pulled through, it only made since that so could she.“This is probably going to seem kind of a strange question, but when is your parent’s funeral?"

Bridget felt a flicker of hope light in her chest, like a candle, and let Derek's words wash over her. He believed in her, he seemed to think that she'd endure this heartache. Even if she doubted herself, he had confidence in her, and that alone was enough to reassure her. “This is probably going to seem kind of a strange question, but when is your parent’s funeral?" Bridget sighed. It was a strange, uneccessary question, and it brought back the fresh pain and sorrow. Tomorrow, she'd be expected to say goodbye to the people who had raised her and taught her everything she knew. Bridget knew that she needed the closure of a funeral to move forward, but that didn't mean she wanted it."Tomorrow, actually. We're supposed to meet at the cemetary at noon. Not many people will be there, maybe a few of my parent's old friends." Bridget didn't notice that her hand had tightened around Derek's, as if by instinct. Part of her wanted to ask if he would come with her, but another part suspected he was planning on it anyway.For the first time that night, she realized that she was growing tired. The soft bed seemed to be inviting her to sleep. Stiffling a yawn, Bridget felt the strong desire to lay down and never get up again. “Hello, Hello?!” A voice came from downstairs, and just like that, all fatigue left Bridget. She snatched up one of her flying disks from the nightstand and clutched it tightly. Her nerves on edge, Bridget immediately started towards the voice, Derek following right behind her. Could it be someone with Vanessa? A new friend, perhaps?Vanessa should be home by now, Bridget realized. Both her and Derek hadn't really given her a second thought, but the guilt quickly diminished as Bridget saw their new guest.The Shadowhunter's slurred voice clued Bridget in that he had been drinking, but that didn't bother her too much. She wasn't one to judge.Bridget gave him a tight smile, ignoring the pain it brought. "Hi, I'm Bridget." As far as introductions went, she kept it short and sweet, turning to Derek to take over. After all, she'd only been here a few hours, and really was in no position to welcome this new person to the Institute, when Derek had lived here much longer.

Oliver let his gaze sweep across the empty hall, taking in every detail through his blurred vision. Humming a soft tune to himself as he lazily meandered deeper into the Institute, letting his slender fingers brush against the cold stone walls as he went. When he heard approaching footsteps, he pulled himself away from the wall, directing his uninterested gaze towards the welcoming committee. Crossing his arms over his chest as the girl spoke, he regarded her with a lazy gaze. “Bridget…” He sounded out slowly, as if testing the sound of her name on his tongue while not bothering to offer up his own name in return. “Can’t say I’ve ever met a Bridget before…Well I did know a cat named Bridget.” He stated in a matter of fact tone, crinkling his nose slightly as he pictured the fat calico that stalked the halls of London Institute. “She was fat.” He added, tilting his head to one side as he let his silvery gaze sweep over the girl standing before him.“You don’t look much like her though, fortunately for you.” A smirk danced at the corners of his lips as he kept his gaze locked on her, his head still cocked to the side like a kitten watching something that caught its interest but that he couldn’t quite understand.

"Tomorrow, actually. We're supposed to meet at the cemetery at noon. Not many people will be there, maybe a few of my parent's old friends." Derek cringed involuntarily as he watched Bridget, momentarily lifted with the confidence he had in her, fall right back into the pain of having to think of her parents. He hated it, hated that he'd caused her to remember that she still had one more hurdle to jump. But, if his plan was going to work, he needed the information. She might not even agree to what he was about to suggest. But he was fortunate enough to have already been through the tragedy she was going through, and overcome it. A couple years ago he would have punched anyone who dared to call his mother's death and his father's eviction fortunate. However, with his experience, Derek would now be able to help someone he cared about. And to think, hours ago, I didn't even know her name. The world worked in strange ways.Derek was on the verge of suggesting they turn in, having seen Bridget just barely stifle a yawn, when a soft but audible noise echoed up from underneath them. The Entry Hall.Streaking across the room, right on the heels of Bridget, Derek left her for barely a second in order to retrieve his sword from his room. Back at her side, he gripped his sword firmly in his right hand, loving the way it fit so familiarly. The excitement of a Demon fight was already coursing through his veins, and he didn't even know if that's what they were facing. It had been a while since the safety of the Institute was breached, so the intruder was most likely Vanessa coming back from the hunt. Still, to a Shadowhunter, 'most likely' just didn't cut it.And sure enough, as both Shadowhunters rounded the corner that opened out into the enormous hall, Derek looked down not on the slight, feminine form of Vanessa, but the completely unfamiliar form of someone entirely new. Letting the tenseness roll out of his shoulders, Derek followed only a little less closely behind Bridget. The new comer was obviously no Demon, but that still didn't mean he was completely danger free. He actually looked pretty drunk.Bridget's introduction was short and sweet, and she quickly looked to him to provide more of a basis. Derek was, however, delayed in giving his introduction.“Can’t say I’ve ever met a Bridget before…Well I did know a cat named Bridget.” One eyebrow raising quizzically, Derek looked at the Shadowhunter, wondering how the hell he'd made it all the way to the Institute alive; he was obviously bashed out of his mind. “She was fat. You don’t look much like her though, fortunately for you.” Alright, he'd let the drunk ramble on long enough. Time to get some real information out of him, excluding any other stories about the dude’s fat cat named Bridget.“Well, now that we've figured out Bridget isn't your cat in disguise, the name's Derek. And you are?"Derek hadn't meant to make fun of the Shadowhunter, it had just slipped out. Maybe his twin's cynicism was rubbing off after all.

When it was the girls’ male counterpart who replied, Oliver directed his gaze at the other for the first time. The boy looked kind, like the kind of guy girls flocked to without hesitation, seeking comfort in his strong arms, and the look in his eyes said that he was happy to offer his assistance to any damsel in distress. Something about the guy made Oliver eager to piss him off, though his reply to his babbles about Bridget the cat made a grin tug at the corners of his lips. “Now, now. I never said that she wasn’t. She is a very clever feline.”His gaze slipped down to the sword clutched in Derek’s hand, a dangerous glint flashing behind his silvery gaze. The thought of a good fight made his pulse race a little faster but his slowly fading stupor was far more concerning.“I…” He started pointing to himself as if they may have been confused as to whom he was introducing. “Am Oliver. Pleased to make your acquaintance and blah, blah, blah. So is it common practice to greet every guest baring arms? I must say, it’s much edgier then the greeting I got in the last institute.”

Carter walked in, and sighed, she knew she shouldn't of pushed it. The CLave was just too strict. She walk over ot the entrance an a cat came, Carter read the tag, "Hey CHurch." She pet the cat, and set her bags down. "Is anyone here?" She asked. SHe wondered if there was a butler, like at Idris.This was her first time out of Idris, and she had no idea what to expect. SHe had aced all her exams, but she still felt as if she knew nothing. SHe couldn't just kill anyone who tried to mug her, maybe a demon, but not a downworlder or a mundane, they were just to nice. Mundanes were also so ignorant. The only reason she didn't go crazy at the ruling because she wanted to meet Clary, she wanted to meet her more than anything else. SHe would even kill a downworlder to meet her, and Carter just couldn't wait. "HELLO?" she said a little louder so that it echoed.

Carter spot the person in the corner, and walk over ot her. "Hello, I'm Carter. I'm new too." She sits next to the person. "Living here should be a blast." She said sarcasticly. "Why di you come here, out-law, ror just found out you were one of us?"

She hated it when she had to consider herslef an out-law. She neverdid anything wrong, just had downwolder friends. She never thoguth of that as a crime, but the Clave thought differently. If it was up to her, she would walk up to the clave, adnd givethem each a leason they'll remember.

Derek followed the boy's gaze, all the way back to his own sword. Seeing how the fellow Shadowhunter's eyes lit up at the thought of fighting, even his own kind, Derek's grip on his weapon tightened, already thinking how to best get Bridget out of harm's way while still defending himself. But the boy never made a move.“Am Oliver. Pleased to make your acquaintance and blah, blah, blah. So is it common practice to greet every guest baring arms? I must say, it’s much edgier then the greeting I got in the last institute.”Lessoning his grip on his sword, Derek eyed Oliver once again with a questioning look. It wasn't like he'd never seen a drunk person before. It was just they were normally humans. Back in the early days, when he'd first learned of his parents, he'd tried everything to ease the pain, even alcohol. He'd drunken all that he could find, and still he'd only achieved a slight buzz. Oliver must have been drinking for a while to get this bad. What had happened to him?Before Derek could even start the welcoming process, that he knew Oliver would probably follow with another snarky comeback, the sound of the door opening and a distant call came to the group.Motioning for Bridget to wait for him, Derek crossed the long nave of the Church to the small room by the door. By that time, one more girl had joined the one who had first called out. The first, sitting by her baggage and petting Church, was of average heighth, slim, with white hair. Probably 15 years of age. Easily the youngest Shadowhunter he'd ever seen. The second was short, with brown hair, brown eyes and pale skin that stood out even more paired with her black outfit. She seemed about 16, and was already in conversation with the other." Excuse me," Derek said, a smile back in place now that he wasn't dealing with Oliver. " My names Derek Gray. And you two are?"

Carter turnned, her eyes glowing for a moment. "Oh, hi, I'm Carter. I didn't know anyone was here." She stood up. "I just came from Idris, and so this place is very different to me. More demons and stuff." She look at the girl, "I just me her."Church came around, and Carter pet him again. "I love your cat, Church." She had a soft spot for cats. They were just so fluffy, and cute. She walked over to her bags. "I came here by orders of the Clave. Apparently, I have too many Downworlder relations." SHe rolled her eyes. She hated thinking about why the Clave sent her away. "I wish they wouldn't of done that, I mean, hello? The Accords!"

Bridget stayed put, figuring that Derek could handle whoever else had decided to drop in, considering that he had motioned for her to sit tight anyway. She wanted to assume that it was only Vanessa, finally coming back, but of course they couldn't be sure. However, she couldn't think of anyone else it could be, unless more Shadowhunters were planning on taking residence here.Bridget was tired, the exhaustion was slowly creeping up on her and fatigue set in her body. It had been a long, painful day, and crawling into bed right now seemed like the best relief. She knew that she couldn't just leave Oliver here by himself though, despite the fact that he could probably get around just fine. It would be rude, and anyways she was supposed to wait for Derek to return.Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Bridget looked at Oliver briefly before looking down at the flying disk in her hand. Gingerly tucking it in the back pocket of her jeans, she turned back to the new arrival, the awkward silence filling the room."So... Oliver," She said, as if trying the name out. "Why are you here?" Bridget felt the need to start a conversation, and was honestly curious.

Oliver paid no attention to the voices that echoed through the halls and barely gave him a passing glance as Derek left to greet them. As his inebriation slipped into pure exhaustion, his limbs felt heavy as if all the weight of the problems he had been drinking to avoid came crashing back down onto his shoulders. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to run back out to find more booze or let himself find a room and slip into a temporary coma. Before he could make a decision, Bridget’s voice interrupted his train of thought. Despite the simplicity, her question caught him off guard. Why was he here? If fatigue hadn’t been weighing him down, he would have been quick with a sarcastic response though his brain was foggy and sarcasm seemed like more effort than he was able to give at the moment. “That’s a good question…” He let his voice trail off as he considered the question. Was he here to explore the city? It had been quite some time since he had wandered these streets though he never had cared much for Manhattan. Maybe he was here simply because he had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t like he had any family or friends elsewhere that looked forward to a visit from him. He let out a small sigh and shook his head, sending dark bangs cascading across his weary eyes before letting his gaze find the girls face. He hesitated for a moment before he spoke in a soft, almost concerned voice. “You look tired.” He said, half as a change of subject and half as observation that he just looked close enough to notice. “About as tired as I feel.” He added, a small smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

As if to prove his words, Bridget yawned at the exact moment Oliver spoke his observation. She recognized the subject change effortlessly, but did not have the energy or bluntness to pursue the answer to her question. Besides, Bridget could pick up the possible underlying concern in his voice, and she appreciated it, giving him the smallest of smiles in return."You could say that it's been a long day," Bridget said, only offering him that as the reason for her exhaustion. If Oliver wasn't willing to share much, then neither was Bridget. Brushing hair out of her eyes, she unknowlingly exposed the dark red mourning runes that decorated her one of her arms, drawn by Derek only a little while ago. Bridget turned to look at the direction where Derek had left, part of her wishing he'd come back soon. She wanted to go to bed, not stand here and try to make friends with someone equally as tired. She turned back to Oliver, deciding to take matters into her own hands."Well, why don't I take you to a room." Turning on her heel, she led Oliver up the stairs and down the hallway of rooms, most of which were available. During her own tour Derek had pointed out to her that his room was to the right of hers, and Vanessa's was across from him, and so Bridget selected the room to the left of her own for Oliver. Opening the door to what was now his room, Bridget stepped inside and made a little welcoming gesture to Oliver, turning back to him.

Listening to Carter's explanation of how she'd come to the Institute, Derek couldn't help but smile. The girl just seemed to bubble over with energy and an obvious spunk. Even Church, the Institutes normally sedate feline attendant, purred enthusiasticly under her touch. The girl had said the Clave hadn't liked how close she had become to Downworlders; Derek couldn't help wondering what she would think of his twin being a highly ranked Faery. That was about as close a Downworlder relationship as he'd ever encountered." Well we're glad to have you, no matter what your history states," Derek said, following it with a goodnatured wink. Turning to the brunette girl, Derek could tell she wasn't going to give him an answer. Whether from shyness or just lack of interest, the girl seemed pretty quiet. But, being the gentlement he'd been brought up as, he sent her a warm smile, and scooped up both her luggage as well as Carter's. Having muscles hardened from years of fighting demons and basically living the life of a Shadowhunter, he took up the baggage with little effort. " If you guys don't mind following me, I'll show you to your rooms. Tours will have to wait until morning due to the fact that I'm just too tired to give a good enough one," Derek joked as he turned to go up the stairs.Expecting to see Bridget, possibly in the midst of an arguement with Oliver, he was surprised to see that both had disapeared. For one, quick moment, a fear ran through Derek's heart; a fear that centered around Oliver commiting some harm towards Bridget. But then sense came to him, ruling out such an extreme possibility. Still, the fact that Bridget was now completely alone with a near stranger sent Derek's protective nature into over drive.With a little bit more speed than usual, he gathered the girls together, deposited them and their luggage off at their rooms, and left them with a slightly rushed " Good night". Now free of his duty's, the Shadowhunter followed the hall all the way down to the end where Bridget's door stood, a familiar sight already. But before he'd even reached it, Derek was stopped by the sound of voices coming from a slightly open door to the left of Bridget's. Neither of the voices were raised either in anger or fear, so his worry was put to rest. The beginnings of jealousy soon took it's place, and, before common manners could stop him, Derek entered into the room, a quick knock on the door frame the only warning. " Just wanted to let you guys know, we're going to start training tomorrow; the boss sent a message earlier today. So we should probably get as much sleep as possible." Staying only long enough to glance over the two, Derek exited back out into the hall, and headed to his room. He knew he shouldn't give a damn about what Bridget did with guys, at least not yet. He also knew that he'd never acted so bitter before, and he'd been in plenty of situations that had called for it. As he turned off the light in his room, Derek's last thought before he slipped into much needed sleep was that his twin would have surely laughed his ass off if he'd known how much of a fool he'd had been that day.

As Bridget swept her hair back, his gaze fell immediately onto the mourning runes that marked her arms. Understanding washed over him at once, along with something else that he had been trying to suppress all day. His mind flashed with images of those same runes marking his own arms, flashes of Shadowhunters dressed all in white on the vast hill side of Alacante. He shook his head, a little too quickly, trying to dispel the thoughts form his mind, but it was too late. The runes mixed with his oncoming sobriety let the memory back in. Tomorrow was the anniversary of his mother’s death. The sudden urge to run from the Institute swept over him like wild fire. He suddenly felt like a caged animal in these stone halls, he needed to run, needed to find a demon to kill or another bottle of liquor to try to tame the memories raging inside his head, try to fight off the demons of his past a little while longer. Bridget’s voice broke him from his thoughts and before he could resolve to move, she was already leading him down the hall. He followed obediently, letting their footsteps echo loudly in his head as he tried to clear his thoughts.

As they stepped into the room, he turned to face her instantly, not bothering to glance around the tidy space. All Institute rooms looked the same. He let his gaze fall on the runes once more before letting his eyes find her face. “I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, gesturing towards her arm. He didn’t bother asking whom she had lost, it wasn’t his place, but it didn’t seem to matter, it was obvious the loss had taken it’s toll on her. As Nephelim it is common practice to overlook death. There would be a quick mourning ceremony and then they were expected to move on with their lives. Oliver had always thought this was bullshit. He wanted to share with her the significance of tomorrow, let her know that he understood her anguish though before he could make up his mind to confide in the girl or not Dereks voice echoed through the room. As quick as he came, he was gone leaving the two alone once more. Something about the other boys friendly demeanor had changed since they had parted and Oliver figured it had something to do with the two of them being alone in his room together. If it weren’t for his exhaustion he would have found that hilarious. “I guess that’s your queue to exit stage left.” He said halfheartedly. He found himself not wanting her to go, not wanting to be alone once again in these unfriendly rooms. With a soft sigh, he kicked off his boots and sat down on the edge of the bed. Part of him still wanted to flee into the night but the bed was too inviting to ignore. “Thank you… Ya’ know, for showing me to my room and whatever.” He offered her a small smile. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

With two simple words, Oliver had brought back the clawing grief of her parents' death, and now empty and aching hole in her heart was the only thing they left her. Bridget didn't trust herself to speak, and couldn't force any words out of her mouth. She merely nodded a thanks, and tugged her shirt sleeve down a little farther, covering up the mourning runes that had given her secret away to this stranger.Wiping at her eyes, determined not to cry, at least not yet, Bridget stared at Oliver, puzzled. For a brief moment, she felt that he understood where she was coming from, what she was dealing with. Silence had punctured their short converstation, and maybe Oliver was about to offer her comforting words, his own troubled experience, or maybe he wasn't. Bridget wouldn't know though, because at that moment Derek barged in the room.His words were short and his attitude was far from pleasant, despite the polite demeanor. Bridget almost flinched at the underlying annoyance in Derek's voice, and she found herself upset that she had somehow already screwed up the one friendship she had here. The door slammed shut, and Bridget again had to rub at her eyes a little.Bridget watched as Oliver sat down, and the small sarcastic joke he made was simply not enough to make her smile. Only when he was thanking her did she start to recognize her dismissal. "Yeah. Bright and early for training." She said dully, lacking any enthusiasm that the idea of training formerly brought her.Pausing at his door, hesitating slightly, Bridget was finally able to give him the smallest of smiles. "Goodnight, Oliver." She shut the door behind her, and faced the alarmingly quiet, empty hallway.A strong desire to go to Derek's room filled her, and she started to pass up her own door for his, but his was closed, whispering of anger and irritation. Realizing just how unwelcome her presence probably was, Bridget turned back to her plain door and slipped inside.After changing into shorts and a t-shirt, Bridget crawled into bed. The smell of her old house lingered on her clothes, and now that she was at last alone, she allowed the tears to slip down her cheeks and hit her pillow. It was impossible to cry quietly, and although she tried to convince herself otherwise, part of her hoped that one of the guys would hear her.

A frown tugged at the corners of Olivers’ lips as he watched Bridget shut the door behind her. He was never good at consoling others, frankly because he never cared enough to try; though in this case he wished he had been able to give her some kind of encouragement, something that would help dry the tears that hovered behind her eyes. But who was he to consol anyone really? Flopping backward, he stared up at the old ceiling blankly. This room was too quiet, too clean. It reminded him of his father’s manor house back in Idris, always needing to be spotless, perfect…White. Everything was always white. He shuddered from the thought and sat back up, running a hand through his dark hair, mussing up the long strands. He figured that upon Captain Derek’s orders, everyone was stored away safely in their rooms, making this the perfect time to go exploring. Not bothering with shoes, he got to his feet and stretched before slipping out of the door. At first, he thought that the halls were completely silent though after a moment he heard the sound of muffled crying coming from the door to his right, Bridgets door. The sound made him pause, freezing outside of her door, unsure of what to do. Keep walking? After all, he hardly knew this girl; he was probably the last person she wanted to talk to though something about the look in her eyes before she left his room made him hesitate. It was a look he knew too well, a look he often saw when he looked in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, he knocked quietly on her door.“Bridget?... It’s Oliver.”

In an instant, as soon as her brain processed the knock on the door, Bridget's sobs ceased. As if someone had flipped a switch, she sucked in a breath and magically, unbelievably, found the will and power to stop. Sure, the pain was still there, begging to be released, and the tears were just barely kept at bay, but she did technically put an end to her pitiful crying.Dragging herself out of the comfortable bed, Bridget hesitated only for a moment before she opened the door. Standing before her was indeed Oliver, his hair a little messy and a possible look of concern on his face, one that Bridget could have easily been imagining. For a very brief moment she fought the urge to shut the door in his face. Part of her really, truly did not want anyone to see her this way, with puffy, red eyes and tangled hair. If she turned away now, then they could both act like everything was perfectly fine. Bridget opened her door wider, internally arguing with her instinct, and wordlessly invited him inside. Deep down, she knew that he must have heard her crying, but figured that just maybe she would get away with pretending that nothing had happened. It was worth a shot."You need something?" Plopping back down at her bed, she caught a glance of her pillow, with mascara stains dotting the white cover. She flipped it over, as if that could erase all the evidence. It was no use though. Bridget knew that she looked a mess, and honestly, she could feel the tears beginning to bubble up again, determined to show her that she really had no control over her emotions anymore.

As soon as she opened the door, he quickly regretted his decision, feeling foolish for stopping. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot before stepping inside the door at her invitation. “Sorry to um… Interrupt.” He started carefully, giving her a small apologetic smile. “I know I’m probably not the person you wanted to knock on your door but my mother would have been ashamed of me if I had just turned my back on the sound of a pretty girl crying. “ He took a hesitant step towards her but hesitated, his fingers nervously tracing one of the many scars that ran up his arms. It wasn’t usual for shadowhunters to have scars, with their use of healing runes but his father never allowed him to heal wounds that were inflicted as a punishment, leaving him many scars that were painted across his ivory skin. He let his gaze fall on her tear streamed face, trying not to smile as he watched her attempt to hide the tears. It wasn’t a vicious smile as it would normally be in this situation, but more a sympathetic smile. Not to mention the fact that it was kind of cute how she tried to play it cool when her mascara stained her cheeks. “Please, don’t stop on my behalf. They say it helps to cry. I’m quite jealous actually… Never quite been able to do it myself… I also hear it helps to talk about it… I know you don’t know me, and feel free to tell me to leave you the hell alone, I know I would if I was you… But something tells me I can relate to what you’re going through. Tomorrow marks the anniversary of my mothers death. And In a way, my fathers too” He rambled nervously, getting slightly annoyed at himself for being so foolish. Being nervous was not something he was used too but something about the girls delicate state put him on edge, actually making him care about what he said to her, careful not to upset her further.

Bridget sat on her bed stoically, leaning against the wall and curling her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she did listen to the words Oliver was telling her, but her mind wandered elsewhere. It was impossible for her to focus on one specific thing, in fact she wasn't really thinking about anything at all. "I'm sorry. This must be hard for you." That was all she could say. All of a sudden, Bridget felt dettached. As much as she wanted to comfort Oliver with his own issues, the girl couldn't find the words. Bridget swallowed painfully, looking up at Oliver with dull eyes. "Tomorrow's my parents' funeral." With those simple words, her resolve broke, the resistance crumbled. Whatever binding that had been holding her together came undone. The brief numbness Bridget had been feeling left, and she ached for its return. This grief was altogether too painful. Bridget didn't even notice that she was crying until it became almost impossible for her to breathe, and by then it was too late to stop.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak but shut it again quickly; shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot as the girl’s tears turned somewhat hysterical. He considered slowly backing out of the room, shutting the door and pretending he never even came in but instead he kept his feet planted, watching the girl for a long moment before slowly moving towards her, kneeling down beside the bed. “I hardly came in here so that you could comfort me, love…” He gave her a small, sad smile. “Seems we have something in common though, so I know how hard it is… I also know that absolutely nothing I can say to you right now will make the pain go away.” Without thinking, he placed a gentle hand on her knee.“But I can at least tell you that it gets easier, in time. “ Lifting himself up, he reached a hand out to gently wipe away a stream of tears that streaked her cheek. He let his fingers linger on her skin for a moment before his silver gaze widened slightly and he jerked his hand away quickly. His face looked slightly confused as if his hand had acted out against his will. He jumped to his feet and took a step back, his lips parted as he struggled to find words.

Oliver's fingers brused her cheek, and the light touch wiped away Bridget's tears. She sniffed ever so slightly, closing her eyes, and for a minute her crying stopped. She carefully watched him, not moving an inch but perfectly okay with his lingering hand, completely unaware of what was happening until all of a sudden Oliver was out of her reach, retreating quickly. Bridget's feelings echoed Oliver's confused look. The silence was piercing. Their actions before had been somewhat, possibly natural but now the tension filled the air, reminding the two that despite all, they were still almost strangers.If she ignored the pain of her shattered heart, Bridget was on the verge of decifering the smallest of sparks that had taken residence inside of her. She couldn't tell if it was because of her new bonds. whether with Oliver or Derek, or both, or simply that there was hope for her. Sometime in the distant future, the Shadowhunter would be okay again. Never the same, but hopefully to a better place that she was in now.Somewhere deep in the Institute, a large grandfather clock chimed the hour. The twelve tolls resonated throughout the halls, a haunting sound telling of the late, forbidden hour."Maybe we should call it a night." Bridget said quietly, her voice considerably uneven.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver gained some composure. Wiping his face clean of emotion, he allowed the corners of his lips to pull up into a small smile that didn't reach his silver eyes. He took a step towards her to close some of the awkward distance and gave her a nod. "Probably smart. We are going against Captain Dereks rules, can't have that." His smile became a little more friendly as he let his gaze find her face."I hope you have a better night Bridget." He hesitated for a moment before turning and leaving her room. Shutting the door behind him, he paused outside of her room. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and felt himself relax, the tension slipping from between his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair before slipping into his own room and flopping face down onto his bed. He could already tell this was going to be an interesting stay...